


Under Cover(s)

by RVTstudent



Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Aliases, F/M, First Time, Hotel Sex, Mutual Pining, under cover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-26 01:52:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19758172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RVTstudent/pseuds/RVTstudent
Summary: When Donovan Hock's party gets moved from his estate to a lavish hotel, Shepard and Garrus have to infiltrate the event as Alison Gunn and Darius Otho, Gunn's long-time turian lover, and the situation forces the pair to confront their feelings for each other.





	Under Cover(s)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by NCIS Season 3, Episode 8 of the same title (Under Covers) in which Tony and Ziva go under cover as assassin's, a married couple, who have to execute a contract at the Marine Corps Birthday Ball. I had watched it recently and thought the events of the episode might fit well with Kasumi's loyalty mission (Stealing Memory). It's a silly little fic that wouldn't go away until it was written.

“There’s just one more thing,” Kasumi had told Shepard during their briefing for how to best infiltrate Hock’s new location for his party. Rather than the event being held at his Beckenstein estate, Donovan Hock had rented an entire hotel for the weekend and expanded the guest roster. “Your alias, Alison Gunn is rumored to meet up with her long-standing lover at these events, and Darius Otho is on the guest list. It would appear abnormal for them not to spend time together in one of the private rooms.”

“Darius Otho.” Shepard mused. “So we’ll need someone to take his place on the guest roster too.”

“I already have someone in mind Shep.” Kasumi grinned beneath her hood as the conference room door opened to admit Garrus, who cleared his throat awkwardly behind them. Shepard inwardly groaned at the turn the mission had taken, and she hoped she wasn’t blushing too brightly as she turned to see that his customary blue markings had been colored over in favor of lavender swipes across his cheeks.

With amusement in her voice, the hooded thief finished. “After all, Ms. Gunn’s lover is a turian.”

\---

Kasumi’s statement of, _“After all, Ms. Gunn’s lover is a turian.”_ was stuck on a loop inside Shepard’s head as Garrus pumped above her using his small, shallow push-ups as the closest mimicry of lovemaking.

Reaching for the bedside table, Shepard activated the room’s sound system, and a sultry, seductive beat ( _was this what Mordin considered mood music?)_ came out of the speakers, hopefully allowing the two of them to speak without any potential bugs picking up on their conversation as their room hadn’t been swept for bugs yet. That would be Jacob’s job later, once he infiltrated the event as a member of the hotel’s staff, bringing a complimentary basket of fruit to their room, their weapons hidden within the room service trolley.

As Garrus worked away, Shepard whispered. “Do you think they bought it? Us being together?”

“I know I did…or rather, that Darius did.” Garrus murmured in reply, his face moving closer to Shepard’s as he lowered himself before surging upward in an impressive show of muscular biceps rippling as he flexed and extended his arms.

“That’s obvious.” she teased.

Garrus flicked his mandible in the equivalent of an eye roll, “For your information, that’s my knee.”

“It’s probably been long enough, hasn’t it?” Shepard breathed, trying not to gasp at the sensation of his voice which seemed to vibrate in her very core.

Garrus paused his motions, and propped himself up on one arm, bringing the other up in front of him, and Shepard squinted at the harsh glow as his omni-tool activated so close to her face. 

“It’s only been ten minutes.” he whispered, checking his tool’s chrono. “Let’s give it another forty, just to be realistic. After all, I have a reputation to uphold.” Garrus panted against her neck, a mandible brushing her earlobe, making the fine red hairs stand on end as she shivered beneath him. “Besides, you can’t be too careful when under cover.”

 _Another fourty!?_ In her off hours research of both the written and recorded varieties, Shepard had learned about turian stamina, but fifty minutes at a time? She nearly whimpered at the thought but pressed her lips together to keep her voice contained and used some of her last fragments of lucidity left untouched by the lust clouding her mind to wrest back control of the situation. 

They were on a _mission_ for Kasumi, and she was _not_ going to take advantage of the ridiculously expensive weekend suite, nor of her handsome and muscular turian teammate poised above her. The teammate she’d fantasized about for months, even though Garrus had never stated or shown an interest in any female outside of his own species, and to whom she would never reveal her infatuation with, lest it ruin their friendship. 

Her mind’s eye was running wild with the predicament she found herself in. The lavish room, softly lit, threw their shadows against the wall. The feel of silky sheets against her skin; the weight of his body, his voice, his smell…it was all nearly identical what she had imagined when she’d delved her fingers between her legs for the first time on the SR-1, calling out Garrus’ name to her empty cabin as she came. 

Tossing her head slightly, Shepard smirked up at him.

“In that case,” she purred, hooking her thigh higher over Garrus’ hip spur, and using the momentum and flexibility her movement granted, she reversed their positions, pinning Garrus to the mattress beneath her. “I prefer it on top. If we’re being realistic.” 

\----

“In that case,” Shepard paused, and slid her leg higher, her core opening to him further. Garrus’ view suddenly shifted, and he found himself looking up instead of down at Shepard as he had been moments before. “I prefer it on top. If we’re being realistic”, she finished.

He bit back a moan that threatened to escape as his plates began to soften and drift apart. He could feel a trickle of prepatory fluid that had been building as he worked to stay sheathed begin to flow from his seam.

Shepard started to gyrate above him, and Garrus could only do what came naturally. He put his hands on her hips, fingers splaying upward over her waist, and helped her “ride” him, doing his best to make sure she never touched the ever-growing wetness of his arousal.

 _Did Shepard even know the things she did to him?_ The scent of her need was growing around him, and he was finding it hard to concentrate. She was his friend, but after saving him on Omega, Garrus found himself wanting more with her. Their first mission back together had left him hard as a rock in the battery, coming across his hand and belly, groaning Shepard’s name after barely three strokes of his hand. Human-turian porn had helped take some of the edge off, but rather than sating his curiosity, the vids only whetted it. He was pent up and needed to relieve some tension sooner rather than later.

Garrus desperately wanted to do something about his fixation for her but knew in his gut that he couldn’t act on his intentions. Shepard had never expressed any romantic interest in anyone, despite a few longing glances Kaidan and Liara had sent her way. In his naivety on the SR-1, Garrus had placed her on the pedestal of the Lone Warrior when he’d, and he’d tried to emulate the same with his Archangel team on Omega. No close personal attachments outside of a few friendships, and a ruthless willingness to see each mission through to completion, even if it led to the sacrifice of someone close.

Now two years older, a failed turian vigilante with a busted face, he knew better. Shepard was a flesh and blood female, just as he was a flesh and blood male. He wanted something real, with someone he respected, and there was no one he respected more than Shepard.

He was taken from his thoughts by Shepard’s voice. “So, fifty minutes, huh big guy?” She panted, the hard muscles of her calves and thighs bunching as she squatted above him.

“Yeah,” he started awkwardly, tightening his grip around her waist. Shepard let out a low moan, one meant for anyone listening in on their room, but it had Garrus growing harder, the tip of his cock beginning to protrude from his sheath. “There was this recon scout, back when I was still in the military. We were going to hit this batarian pirate squad, my last mission before I transferred to C-SEC, and the two of us had been at each other’s throats for days. Nerves mostly, so our CO suggested we settle things in the ring.”

His erection kept growing, and Garrus gasped at how sensitive he felt. Pulling Shepard forward, he planted her knees on either side of his upper waist, closer to his chest and further away from his groin. “We were the top ranked hand to hand scouts on the ship; I had reach, but she had flexibility.”

“So who won?” Shepard’s face was bunched in concentration, and a thin sheen of sweat coated her naked skin, which pebbled with goosebumps from the air conditioning.

“The judge called it a draw after nine rounds. Lot’s of unhappy bettors in the training room.” Garrus squeezed his eyes shut as his cock fully everted, ridges thick and heavy with blood. “We held a tie-breaker back in her quarters, and finished fifty minutes later, just in time for our mission. I had reach, but she had flexibility.”

Shepard huffed a laugh and ramped up the pace of her motions. “So that’s how you got the nickname 5-0? Not because you were leaving to become a cop?”

All he could do was hum and nod in reply. His hips twitched, and it was then that Garrus noticed that Shepard had shifted her body slightly as she lowered her hips, and the head of his cock just brushed against her folds. Her _incredibly wet_ folds. A seed of hope bloomed in his chest. _Maybe, just maybe she felt the same way?_

She stilled above him, and shut her eyes with a needy whimper, asked. “Please tell me that’s your knee?”

\---

Shepard was going to die. She was going to burst into flames and _literally_ die from the tremors that burst in her core when she’d first felt the pulsating heat that was trapped between them. Thick and ridged and lubricated – his cock was everything she had imagined, and she hadn’t even gotten a good look at it yet.

“Ahhh…no?” Garrus replied, a look of sheer panic on his face. Something dropped inside of her chest as she met his gaze. He wasn’t panicked – he was embarrassed, and he probably felt like a perverted deviant. Feeling the sting of tears at the back of her eyes, Shepard gave him a weak smile as she swung her leg over him, moving away to sit at the edge of the bed, fixing her gaze firmly to the floor.

“It’s okay that you’re uncomfortable, Garrus. I know Kasumi was probably asking a lot of you to go undercover as Darius. There’s no hard feelings between us.”

The room was silent for what seemed like an eternity before the rustle of sheets and the press of Garrus against her back brought Jane out of her self-pity.

“Uncomfortable Shepard? You don’t ever have to worry about making me uncomfortable. Nervous, yes…” Garrus nudged her side. “but never uncomfortable. Will you look at me Shepard, please?”

Shepard could hardly refuse, and met his crystalline gaze, so open and honest as it always was with her. “I’m not going to pretend I’ve got a fetish for humans…” Garrus said, cupping her jaw, his thumb gently tracing her lower lip. “But I have a fetish for one human in particular…and I think she might feel the same. Unless I’m reading the situation wrong?”

Shepard bit her lip uncertainly. “But why me?” She blurted.

Garrus pulled her into his embrace, nuzzling her hair. “Shepard, you’re about the only friend I’ve got left in this screwed up galaxy. There’s no one I respect more than you.”

Shepard pulled back to grin at him. “I’ve never considered cross-species intercourse before. Until you swaggered up the ramp to the Normandy three years ago.”

“That sounds vaguely dirty and clinical.” Garrus leered at her.

Shepard scoffed and threw a playful punch at his shoulder. “So how do you want to handle this going forward? With the mission…and after.”

“We have time Shepard. We can wait and take it slow.” Garrus murmured. “You know me. I always like to savor the last shot before popping the heat sink.”

Shepard giggled, and Garrus realized that his metaphor had just gone somewhere horrible. When she finally regained control of herself, Shepard moved closer, her lips almost touching his mouth plates.

“You aren’t wrong Garrus.”

\---

A few hours later, a knock came at the door, followed by a call of ‘Room Service!’. Garrus exited the ensuite bathroom, terry cloth robe tied loosely around his waist. Shepard sat on the chaise lounger, clothed in the dress she had been wearing when they arrived. She rose, and opened the door for Jacob, clad in the tailored black and white uniform worn by hotel staff. He pushed a small trolley over next to the table set and removed the domed metal cover seated on top.

“A basket of mixed fruits, compliments of the hotel management.” Jacob sat aside the tray and moved closer to Shepard and Garrus.

“I’ll just check and see that everything is in order.” Jacob said as he began to surreptitiously scan the room for any bugs. He located three and placed small dampening devices that would muffle what was being heard by whoever was listening in, without fully cutting off all sound.

“Room’s clear, we’re free to talk quietly.” He murmured.

“Our weapons are under here?” Shepard asked as she pulled back the fabric which concealed the lower part of the service trolley.

“Yes.” Jacob nodded. “Pistols for each of you.”

Shepard grabbed hers, propping her foot up on the chair, baring one toned leg through the slit of her dress, affixing the holster around her thigh. Jacob found himself swallowing hard as he traced the long lines of Shepard’s leg, and felt disappointment when she dropped her dress back into place, obscuring his view.

Jacob took one last scan around the room. “It appears everything is in order.” he said in a normal volume, frowning when he looked at the bed, sheets rumpled and tangled, and pillows strewn across the floor.

“Would you like me have housekeeping come and make up the bed for you?” he asked.

Garrus turned, and flared his mandible at Shepard, who smirked back at him.

“Oh – that won’t be necessary.”

They’d help Kasumi with her heist, and provided the hotel didn’t sustain too much damage when their mission inevitably went sideways, Garrus and Shepard intended to get full use of their weekend getaway.


End file.
